10 William St
23 October 2021
This review is going to be controversial. 10 William St is, and has long been, a staple of the Sydney food scene. It has all the right ingredients – a modern Italian menu in a trendy but relaxed, sleek but intimate setting, favoured by an army of regulars and praised by the industry. However, our recent visit has left a somewhat bitter aftertaste – not ideal when high expectations precede you.
We arrived at our 8pm reservation to some serious déjà vu – the atmosphere was a carbon copy of our last visit, almost as if the final diners before 2021 lockdown had frozen in time, and were now simply picking up – mid-conversation – right where they left off.
People enjoy themselves here, and everything about the place literally oozes cool. The maître d' sports a Burberry-meets-adidas look, the soundtrack is 80s disco – it is all defiantly hip, but thankfully, not intimidating. Service improved throughout the evening, starting out a little nonchalant but ending as friends.
These days, the negroni is a prerequisite on an Italian menu, and 10 William does a great one. I ordered a “negroni sbagliato”, which substitutes the usual gin for prosecco – perfect for those of us nursing a useless post-pandemic alcohol tolerance.
To start, we went a bit rogue and decided not to order 10 William’s trophy dish, the pretzel & whipped bottarga (while the menu is seasonal and changes often, its one constant is this warm and textural pretzel served with a decadent fish roe dip). If there is a lesson to be learned here, it is that classics are classics for a reason, and to stick with them.
We loved the sound of the broad beans & goat’s curd, but the dish as served was not well executed. Given the young age of the beans, our waiter recommended that we eat them whole, shell included. Our categorical recommendation, however, is not to do this; the shells were overly stringy, and we actually choked on them.
The beans themselves had a lovely charred flavour pairing well with the delicate curd, but the taste was overshadowed by the difficult eating experience. Our palettes were also searching for acid, which we found in a lemony olive oil regrettably pooled at the bottom of the plate, rather than coating the other ingredients.
Next, we tried the vitello tonnato, an absolute favourite of ours and popular across both traditional Italian haunts like Chiosco by Ormeggio and more modern iterations such as Alberto’s Lounge.
10 William’s version was expertly seasoned, and the umami-forward combo of beef and tuna provided the ultimate luxury. Tiny bursts of caper and the crunch of olive oil-soaked croutons cut through the richness, and we take our hats off to the chef for that. But – unfortunately, the beef was sliced too thick for our liking and the resulting chewiness disrupted an otherwise pleasurable plate of food.
We decided instantaneously, on glimpsing the menu, that we would order the chicken agnolotti and fennel brodo as our first main. The dish was conceptually enticing – pillows of filled pasta swathed in an unctuous, flavoursome broth. But 10 William’s execution, on this occasion, did not match the hype.
It was served in a soup bowl to share, which was impractical as we had to take turns eating. Luckily we are a couple, but we shuddered at the thought of ordering this with, for example, a colleague.
It was quite confused, tasting less of an Italian classic, and more of a dumpling soup from your local Chinese takeout (but nowhere near as good). The stock was bland (subject to the overpowering dose of parsley), as was the agnolotti filling which lacked punch. The peas were not cooked through, and including huge slices of fennel felt a touch lazy – perhaps a more considered dish would have infused the flavour of fennel into the broth instead.
For our second main, we chose the cavatelli, tomato & ricotta, and ahh… how sweet redemption is. THIS was everything we love about a bowl of pasta at 10 William. Presentation-wise, it was so inviting that we ditched our side plates and dug straight in.
The tomato flavour sang (without the acidity that regularly accompanies it), the dollop of ricotta introduced an indulgent creaminess, and the perfectly al dente cavatelli was a beautiful textural element. The most memorable flavour was thyme, a clever addition as it brought a welcome floral note (although, it was very strong and so would have been a helpful addition to the menu description).
We were in the mood for something small but sweet to finish, so ordered the brown bread ice cream & marmalade. After a short while, our waiter advised that the chef was not happy with the ice cream, and suggested the tiramisu instead. We couldn’t figure out whether we felt appreciative or upsold, but agreed nonetheless.
Tiramisu is rarely a bad idea, but in this instance, we were disappointed. The flavours and textures did not seamlessly meld together as desired. Instead, we got a hit of biscuit, a hit of mascarpone, a hit of coffee – and lamentably – the biscuit was rather dry, the mascarpone rather bland, and the coffee rather bitter. They did add a pinch of salt, which lifted and improved the dish.
Lasting impressions, you ask?
It is cruel but true that a restaurant is only as good as your last visit, and so we heavy-heartedly score 10 William a 2.5/5 for now.
It is very possible, particularly in light of our exceptional previous experiences, that it just wasn’t their night. Things happen, especially during these “unprecedented” times which have hit hospitality so hard. We recognise the resilient people behind every restaurant we frequent, and are not looking to undermine that.
But – for the price, we expected an outstanding meal, which we did not get this time. We use “this time” here in recognition that we will return. And we still think – based on the goodwill 10 William has amassed with us over time – that you should give it a try too.
A Note on Reservations: 10 William states that walk-ins are always welcome. We never take the risk, but it does seem that if you are in the right place at the right time, you just might be seated without a wait.
